Historias cortas y novelas de Reborn Mafia

My love story with my Don husband was once the model relationship for couples all across Edale. But after his sudden death, the notary informed me that I was not the first in line to inherit his estate. I froze. Christian Fuzio was an only child. His parents had long passed away. We had no children. If I wasn't the first in line, then who was? That was when the boy walked in. His face was a perfect copy of Zoe Sgotti, Christian's assistant. The boy crossed his arms and sneered. "Mrs. Fuzio, the person my father loved most in his life was my mother. Of course, most of the inheritance belongs to us." Rae… Ray… Only then did I realize that the name he had whispered on his deathbed was never mine. I lunged forward to question Ray, but he shoved me into the traffic. The moment my head slammed against the ground, darkness swallowed everything. When I opened my eyes once more… I stared at my young, strong hands. Feeling the life that I had once lost growing inside me, I finally understood that I had been given another chance. Christian, this time, I no longer wanted your fake love. I would grant the three of you all the happiness that you wanted.

After my rebirth, I no longer stop my husband, Don Dante Moretti, from taking care of his dead older brother's widow and daughter, Sofia Bianchi and Lucia Moretti. I spent my entire life hoping that he would spare me a glance, after all. Only when I was hugging my son, Leone Moretti's icy corpse while dying in the snow, did I realize just how wrong I'd been. Once I'm reborn, I visit the law firm decisively and turn in my appeal for divorce. "I request to file a divorce with Dante Moretti. I'd like to terminate Leone's and my original identities." A few days later, Leone and I will disappear from Dante's life. Since he wants to stay with Sofia and Lucia, I'll grant his wish.

When I pushed open the oakwood door to the manor’s study, I never expected to walk into such a scene. Juliana was sprawled across the desk, her posture leaving little to the imagination. As if not R-rated enough, her mini dress was pulled up to her waist, and her black lace clung to her thigh, barely covering her modesty. She looked back with a smile. “Alessia, my back is acting up again. Matteo’s just helping me out.” Matteo, my husband and a Don, rose to his feet, a tube of ointment in hand. He didn’t look like someone who had been caught out. “She couldn’t reach her back, so I thought I ought to lend a hand.” Matteo grabbed the dressing and pressed the gauze against her skin. He sure took his time. Tilting her head, Juliana met my gaze. “Don’t get the wrong idea. We grew up together. That’s how family is. We don’t care about that kind of stuff.” In my past life, I bolted into the room and grabbed Juliana by the hair to yank her off the desk. She turned to the side, shoving me hard into the sharp corner of the desk. I hit my head on the cold marble edge. The next thing I knew, I was a dead body in the morgue. This time, I stood in the doorway motionlessly. Since Juliana wanted to play the game, I’d be sure to hold my cards close to my chest.

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

On what should have been our wedding day—for the eighth time—Luca Romano was called away yet again by his childhood sweetheart, Vivian Marino. I didn't argue or make a scene. I even smiled and wished them well. Everyone stared at me in shock as I calmly announced that the wedding was canceled. No one knew I had been reborn. In my previous life, I instinctively grabbed Luca and tried to stop him. After hesitating for a moment, he stayed and went through with the wedding. But Vivian was heartbroken. In a fit of despair, she agreed to a marriage alliance in Moscow, only to die in a car accident on the way there. From that day on, Luca hated me. I was still his Donna, seemingly blessed with the status, power, and man everyone envied. But in reality, he ignored my feelings and shut me out for twenty years. Until a rival Family laid an elaborate ambush for us. The moment the bomb went off, Luca pulled me tightly into his arms and shielded me with his body. Warm blood smeared across my cheek. He gave a faint laugh as he wiped away my tears. “Diana, I've repaid everything I owed you in this life.” “If there's another life, let Vivian and me be together.” I eventually died, consumed by grief. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Vivian agreed to the marriage alliance out of spite. This time, I would give him what he wanted. So why did he lose his mind with regret after I left?

As the Vitano princess, I was promised early on in an arranged marriage to the Rosso Family. But when the time came to exchange our families' tokens, I was bedridden with a high fever and had to ask my younger sister, Rosa, to deliver mine in my place. The Rosso heir, Adrian Rosso, took a liking to her and insisted she be the bride instead. Just six months after the wedding, her husband beat her to death in a drunken rage. My father and my brother decided it was my fault Rosa died. They stopped speaking to me and treated me like I didn't exist. Then, during an arms deal at the port, we were ambushed. My father stayed behind to cover our retreat and took two bullets meant for me. My brother used every last ounce of his strength to shove me into the helicopter. I reached for him, but there was no room left on board. "Valentina, if we could do this all over again, I'm begging you, don't let Rosa go in your place." He let go and vanished into the fire. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day my family had sat down to discuss the arranged marriage. My brother, who had always spoiled Rosa beyond reason, did something completely out of character. He shut her down the moment she volunteered for the marriage. He had been reborn too. This time around, we were both going to make up for the regrets of our past lives.

I'm the De Luca family's dirty little secret, their bastard daughter. And I was stupid enough to fall for Marco Moretti, the heir to our rivals. On our wedding day, my sister, Isabella, drugged me. When I woke up, she was wearing my dress. Standing at the altar. Becoming his wife. Heartbroken, I ran to a bar to drown my sorrow. And that’s where I discovered I was pregnant. Marco held me, crying. He swore he loved me, only me. He promised he’d divorce Isabella as soon as our child was born. But on the day I gave birth, Isabella murdered us both. Me and my baby. That’s when I finally understood. Marco would always choose a true-blooded princess of the Cosa Nostra. And me? The bastard? I was just a loose end. A problem to be erased. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the day she drugged me. Their wedding day. This time, I'm not marrying the heir. I'm marrying the Don. But first... I'm going to ruin this wedding.

In my fifth year of marriage to Dominic Moretti, New York’s most powerful mafia Don, his enemies ran our car off the road. As we lay dying in the snow, I looked at him with a faint smile. “Looks like you’re stuck with me until the end.” Our marriage was infamous among New York Mafia families. He gave me a Manhattan mansion, priceless jewels, and five years of rejection. Because he believed I’d forced him into marriage, and resented me for keeping him from his terminally ill childhood sweetheart, Angela. Bleeding in the snow, I waited for him to leave me behind. Instead, he wrapped me in his coat and held me until his body went cold. “Save your strength,” he said calmly. “You’re too stubborn to die.” When the rescuers arrived, I was barely alive, cradled in Dominic ’s stiff, frozen arms. He had given his life to save mine. From the stretcher, I watched them cover his body with a white sheet. A tear slipped down my cheek. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day our families agreed he would marry me. As congratulations filled the room, I quietly tucked away the wedding bands I had bought. All right, Dominic. This time, I’ll let you go.

In my last life, my sister Serena Vega ran to Monaco the night before her wedding, and my family shoved me into her dress before dawn. Damian Lucchese, the young Godfather of New York, had been waiting at the altar for her. The moment he lifted my veil and saw me instead, the warmth in his eyes went cold. For five years, I was his hidden wife. The underworld knew he was married, but no one knew to whom. My parents blamed me for stealing Serena’s place and still failing to keep his heart. Then Serena came home. That Christmas, Damian took her and my parents to his mountain estate. When a blizzard hit, his men rushed everyone onto the helicopter. No one remembered me. I died in that frozen house, three months pregnant with Damian’s child. When I opened my eyes again, Serena had just returned to New York. This time, I would not beg for love. Only when I truly walked away, none of them had the right to regret it.

After being reborn, I no longer stop the Don of the De Luca famiglia, Enzo De Luca, from bringing his pregnant first love, Mia Conti, home to take care of her. I personally annul our engagement, allow them to be alone together, and quietly withdraw from this love triangle. Everyone calls me weak and spineless for stepping down without a fight. Yet, in my previous life, I use my position as Enzo's fiancée to force Mia to leave. On her way home, she miscarries in a car accident and can never conceive again. From then on, Enzo hates me with every fiber of his being. Even after we tie the knot, he neglects me and even takes our child from me and entrusts the child to Mia. However, right before I die from depression, he clutches my hand in a vice grip. His eyes are brimming with tears as he threatens me. "Don't you dare die on me, Ilaria! If you do, I'll be with Mia. Don't you hate it when I get close to her?" I force a smile and slowly close my eyes, putting an end to the suffering we've endured in this lifetime. Now that I've been given a second chance at life, I don't want anything to do with him anymore, so I choose to give him to Mia. Yet, for some reason, when he learns that I'm getting married, he storms into my wedding like a madman and drops to his knees, begging me to take him back.

I woke up from a nightmare, and I was back. Back in the year the Falcone family went to war with the Morozovs for the shipping lanes. I was the Donna of the Falcone family. The woman they all envied. And the first thing I did? I got rid of the baby in my belly. My husband's child. Don Enzo's. Because in my last life, on the day I gave birth, Enzo held up a baby with blue eyes. His own eyes were blazing. "How dare you sleep with a Morozov," he snarled, "and birth their blue-eyed bastard!" The family sentenced me to death. They threw me in a cell. I didn't learn the truth until the very end. That baby belonged to Eliana—Enzo's first love. She was the one sleeping with our sworn enemy. The Morozovs. And Enzo? He stole my rightful heir and swapped him for her bastard. They made me the family traitor. And left my body to rot in a cold, damp cell. And my own son—his mind twisted by that bitch—stood over my corpse and cursed my name. When I opened my eyes again, I was three months pregnant. I didn't hesitate. I walked into a clinic and ended it. Before I left, I took a different kind of shot. High-grade hormones, straight from the black market. It fakes the signs of pregnancy. Fools even the best blood tests. Enzo needed a baby to cover for Eliana's sins. Fine. Let's play.

My sister wanted to make a quick buck selling herself on a cruise ship. I tried desperately to stop her, but my entire family held me down and drowned me in the ocean instead. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment before she left. This time, I smiled while helping her with her makeup. "Let me send you off properly, sis." Later, her screams echoed through the nightmare aboard that ship. I stood safe in the arms of a mafia Don who held me close. "Figlia, your Papa finally found you." Meanwhile, my adoptive parents and sister were on their knees across the deck, begging me to spare their worthless lives.

Two of New York’s most powerful Cosa Nostra dons, Vincent Luciano and Nick Valentino, made a brutal wager over me. The terms were simple: whoever won my heart first would win the right to marry Seraphina Moretti, the sole heir to the Moretti crime syndicate. The ruthless Vincent swept me into his Fifth Avenue penthouse, lavishing me with luxuries all of New York would kill for. Cold, reserved Nick played the lovesick fool, kneeling beneath the moonlight over the Hudson to swear he’d give me a safe life, free from this world’s bloodshed and chaos. I said yes. But the second we stepped into Vincent’s oak-paneled study, Nick’s warmth turned frigid. “Vincent, we had a deal. I’ve won the Moretti marriage.” In my past life, I was discarded by both men, betrayed by my family, and left to die of a forced heroin overdose. Now I’ve been reborn. And this time, I still said yes to Nick’s proposal... But everything would be totally different.

After being reborn, I stop asking questions about what my husband, Giulio Panzeri, does with his childhood friend, Camilla Messina. I let Camilla summon him away from my side again and again. She calls him in tears, saying, "I'm scared, Giulio… I heard gunshots outside the estate, and Nico is crying in fear. Can you come over to keep us company?" Even as Giulio hesitates, I thoughtfully hand him his jacket and tell him, "Quick. Go to them. They must be terrified." Giulio pauses in his tracks and looks at me with a complicated gaze. The old me would've teared up, bursting with emotions as I questioned him who was more important to him, us or them. But now that I've been reborn, I warmly and gently go along with everything he does. Once my daughter, Romina Panzeri, receives her kidney transplant, I'll take her with me and leave him for good.

Three days before my wedding, Eric Foreman's childhood love returned to the country with her terminally ill mother. She wanted to marry Eric to fulfill her mother's dying wish. I objected furiously to it in my last life, and Eric eventually rejected Naomi Corbin's request. Naomi appeared with her mother's funeral picture in the middle of our wedding and accused Eric of being heartless. Eric got the bodyguards to kick her out, and our wedding continued without a glitch. However, he did not return home that night. Since then, he insisted that we sleep in different rooms. He would rather get drunk than touch me. When I questioned him about this, he said to me drunkenly as his eyes glazed over, "Ayla, every time I look at you, I'm reminded of the look of despair in Naomi's eyes and her mother's dying face… I regret making that decision!" His answer depressed me, and I eventually died from it. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Eric tried to convince me to give Naomi our wedding. This time, I agreed. I called my family as I watched him leave happily. "I agree to the marriage alliance. We can hold the wedding in three days."

When my husband, Alessandro, brought his widowed sister-in-law, Anna, back to our home in this life, I stopped putting up a fight. I decided to step aside and give them my blessing. Heck, I even made all their intimate moments possible. I handed over my promise necklace, wedding ring, and even the token of a Donna’s authority to Anna. In my previous life, Alessandro’s love and attention had gone to Anna even though he and I had been married for three decades. On my birthday, he was away, keeping her company at a doctor’s appointment. When I lay on my deathbed, he was busy watching the fireworks with her. Even our children resented me for taking Anna’s place. “A Don of the Colombo family can’t even be with the woman he loves. You have trapped Papa in this marriage. Mama, can’t you set Papa free?” By the time I opened my eyes, I was back to the year Alessandro moved Anna in. This time, I would walk away without looking back.

When an avalanche struck, Cristiano Corleone, the man I grew up with, held my hand tightly. But I chose to let go, giving the last seat on the helicopter to my adopted younger sister, Tania Lanza. And that was because in my previous life, after Cristiano chose to save me, Tania was swallowed by the snowstorm, forever lost in the mountains. He acted like he didn't mind marrying me and making me Donna, but then he gave me the silent treatment for 20 years. "If it weren't for you, Tania would never have died." Because of that, I ended up dying from depression. Now, given a second chance at life, I decisively chose to let them be together. Just as I was on the verge of death, Cesare Martelli, the Don of North Arocia's largest mafia family, saved me in the nick of time. I didn't think twice before accepting his proposal and bearing his heir. Three years passed by, and I accompanied Cesare to a business banquet. As he got tied up with some last-minute work and couldn't get away, the men in the region offered to pick me up at the airport. I had never expected the person who would show up would be none other than Cristiano, whom I hadn't seen in three years. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up with shock and joy. "I knew you were still alive! It's just a shame that Tania is my wife now. But for old times' sake, I don't mind making you my mistress."

With a sharp gunshot, my husband of twenty years, Marcus De Luca, rushed in front of me and took the bullet for me. As he lay dying, he spoke gently. “Nerina, live well.” I held him in my arms. My tears kept falling as I pressed hard against the wound in his chest. But he only touched my hair. His eyes fell on Vivian’s body. “She’s dead. I have no reason to live either.” It felt like a bullet had gone through my head. All the blood in my body froze. “She suffered in Sicily for twenty years.” “She finally came back, and now she died in front of me.” “Please stay alive. Bury me with her.” “If there is another life, don’t let her go to Sicily in your place again.” “Please make us whole.” His hand fell. My world collapsed. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of Marcus’s father. The old Don looked at me. “Your wedding with Marcus is set for three days from now.” I lifted my head and spoke calmly. “Marcus’s bride should not be me. It should be Vivian.” “As for Sicily, I’ll go.”

Because of the death of his first love, Don Stefano Giullani has hated me for eight years. During those eight years, I make every effort to please him—I broker arms deals for him, handle smuggling routes, and even take bullets meant for him. Even when he sees me barely clinging to life, Stefano only says, "If you really wanted to please me, you should have let the bullet hit somewhere fatal." I press my hand over the wound and stare deeply at him. Later, on the night our enemies surround the casino and it's raining bullets, Stefano pushes me away from him. He's riddled with bullets himself while saving me. Before he dies, he shields me and gets me safely into the car. Once the car door closes, he says softly, "In the next life, I don't want to meet you again." After Stefano dies, his Madre slaps me hard across the face. "Why wasn't it you who died? If I had known it would come to this, I would have let him marry Lucia! "It's all my fault for forcing him to marry you. You deserve to die!" She slaps me again, causing me to lose my footing and fall into the sea. Everyone just stands on the boat, watching in silence. Seawater fills my nose, and when I open my eyes again, I find myself reborn eight years into the past—to the day before Stefano and I are about to get married. This time, I will do as he wishes. I'll stop clinging to him. I'll allow him and Lucia to be together.

"You're my sister. I don't care if I'm drugged—this ain't it. You ain't my cure." Carlo Quaranta's eyes were shot red, chest heaving, but that rage? Way hotter than any craving. "Even if you make me marry you, I'll never love you." Vera Este didn't doubt it. Not for a second. He meant every damn word. Last time, she was the so-called "cure"... and it dragged her straight into marriage. She stared at his face—still young. Felt like it belonged to someone from a whole other life.